


Kakashi's Day Off

by BlackMajjicDuchess



Category: Naruto
Genre: Death, Depression, Drama, Exhaustion, F/M, Growing Up, Psychological Drama, Starting Over, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMajjicDuchess/pseuds/BlackMajjicDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A really long oneshot about how Kakashi's soul-deep depression is cured on one single fateful day without a mission. References to Kakashi's excuses for being late all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kakashi's Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on fanfiction.net under the same pen name on 8/04/2010.
> 
> I intended this to be funny and my seriousness got away with me. I do want to call attention to something though. The funny story was supposed to incorporate a lot of Kakashi's excuses for being late. Well, they are still in here, but they are part of the story now, not really jokes. Well I guess that's it. Enjoy the story!

Kakashi Hatake walked slowly, barely even alive at this point, toward the Hokage's open office door. The past few months had been sublimely chaotic. At his request, he'd been sent off on mission after mission without even an hour in between. It was not necessarily that he was running from anything, not anymore. But, now thirty years old, he struggled to see what he had truly, really accomplished in life. He was suffering something many would call a mid-life crisis. By this point in life, anyone—especially Shinobi—would be happily married and having children, satisfied with their contributions thus far and ready to leave their mark on the world. In their children, they would pass on their legacy.

Not so for Kakashi Hatake. He'd spent his first thirteen years trying to do everything right; so right, in fact, that his adherence to the rules and protocol had taught him a very expensive lesson: through the death of his friend and teammate, Obito, he had learned that relying on and being relied on by your teammates far superseded any rule or law. He'd spend the next fifteen years regretting his first thirteen years. He never truly forgave himself for Obito's death. Certain events in his life had lessened the guilt somewhat, but it was always there.

And then, there was Team Seven, the first team he had ever overseen that passed his teamwork test. But, before his team could even graduate to chunin, the most promising genin in the Leaf, Sasuke Uchiha, had run off with the Leaf's greatest adversary, Orochimaru, and was now Enemy Number One. Declaring himself an enemy of the Leaf Village, his former student had become an aberration. He didn't feel it reflected too poorly on his own character—it was obvious Sasuke had emotional problems—but it didn't add to his sense of achievements.

And what of Naruto and Sakura? They'd been embarrassments as genin, and only became strong at all once they had left his tutelage. So what had he really done?

At thirty, he was forced to reevaluate the tenets of his life. With no wife, no kids, and no successful students to call his own, Kakashi had… nothing. He felt absolutely useless. He had even copied all of his ninjutsu save for one.

Such were his thoughts as he dragged his pathetic excuse for a soul into Tsunade's office. The sannin looked as immovable as ever. He had always admired her stamina; throughout the most daunting situations, she was still tenacious and a force to be reckoned with. He could barely stand, as things were now. He'd asked for it though, and he intended to keep it up until he found some sort of meaning in his washed out life.

"Sorry I'm late," he began by rote, "but I must have missed my turn back there and…" he trailed off on a jaw cracking yawn. "Sorry. Anyway, I'm here now. We got that kidnapped girl back to her family in Grass Country. What's in store for me next?"

Her amber eyes glowed menacingly in the candlelight. She'd waited up for him to hear the report. A woman like Tsunade, who didn't like her morning start, would not be happy about losing even a minute of sleep. She didn't answer right away. She stared at him for a minute, then heaved a great sigh. "Kakashi, sit down."

Well, one didn't disobey the Hokage. He sat; it was hard to stay awake though, and it really would have been better if she'd let him stand. He suppressed the next yawn.

"I know what you're doing, Kakashi… you accept every mission without question, and yet you ask for more. It's been a true asset to the village to have Shinobi like you we can depend on no matter what's going on. I accepted that you wanted to keep busy when you started on with this foolishness, but enough is enough. You're going to tire yourself to death, literally." She paused. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," he answered too quickly. He was never really one to share his thoughts and feelings, especially if they made him seem weak. "Everything's fine. I'm fine."

She eyeballed him up and down. "Kakashi, you're half dead. I don't even need to lay a hand on you to recognize the signs of exhaustion. I don't know what it is that's bothering you, or what you're running from, but a tired ninja is a liability. You could let your guard down and get yourself killed. As a medic, I'm not at all pleased with the condition you are in, right now, standing in my office. As the leader of this village, I can't allow you to take missions in your condition. You could get yourself killed, but even more importantly you could get your teammates killed. I don't want that to happen, both because I care for your teammates and because I know how that would affect you, most of all."

His eyes drooped. She was right. If anyone else died because of his mistakes, he'd carry that burden with him forever. "So, what do you recommend?" he asked.

She fixed him with a concerned stare. How she still managed to look imposing while maintaining the modicum of worry was baffling. "You're taking the week off. This isn't a suggestion, it's a command. I respect your reasons for wanting to keep busy, but you need rest."

Her face was impassive. He didn't think he was going to change her mind, but he would try. "Lady Hokage, I fear I may be a danger to myself if I am idle for too long. I'm… not in a good place, in here." He tapped his temple. "I should be fine after a good night's sleep." He tried his best smile, hoping to reassure her, but as usual, his mask made it a slight crinkling of the eyes and nothing more.

She didn't look affected. "A good night's sleep? Are you serious? You're practically comatose as you sit." It was true, but that didn't matter. What he had said was not a lie. He didn't feel good about himself and he didn't want to be cooped up in his house, alone, for a whole week. "Three days, then."

"One full day, twenty four hours. If you try to give me more than that I'll find something else to do with my time, and I won't tell you what it is."

She glared at him. "You would disobey me for this?"

She didn't often pull rank on him, and it was odd for her to do so now. "I would."

Her eyes widened, then she shook her head, eyes down. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but take care of yourself, okay? It's true we need you, but I care about you too, Kakashi. I'm really worried about this." He met her gaze levelly, or as levelly as he could with half lidded eyes. "One full day then, with nothing strenuous. I mean it, you'd better take this day off."

"Of course," he replied.

"Fine, then go home and get some sleep," she said on a sigh, tossing her hand toward the door.

He barely made it through the door and to the couch before he closed his eyes. But sleep would not come, and it wouldn't. He had not gotten a good night's sleep in over fifteen years. There were too many ghosts in his dreams. Instead, he dozed, off and on, for the better part of three hours. After that, he felt as awake as he ever did, and he made coffee. Then he curled up with the first Make Out Paradise novel and tried to read a few pages. He read the same sentence twelve times before he threw it across the room. Then, at five o'clock in the morning, he slammed the door to his house and hit the streets of Konoha.

He was meandering, lost in thought and probably heading toward the memorial stone (he couldn't be sure) when he heard it. "Mrow," a cat meowed. He looked around, but saw nothing. He kept walking. "Mrowwww," it said again, and he saw it this time. A black tomcat, crossing the street ahead of him. He blinked. He'd often said that he was late because a black cat crossed his path, but he had never actually seen one do it. He shook his head, then chose a different way. The cat followed him, meowing.

"That can't be good," he said aloud. He ignored the cat. Eventually he noticed that it wasn't behind him anymore, and it was nowhere to be seen.

Around seven-thirty, he saw an old woman coming out of the grocery store, trying to carry several bags of food at once. Kakashi looked around; he didn't really want to do anything today, but she was clearly struggling and he didn't think anyone else was going to be there to help her out. He sighed and crossed the street, then took all of the bags from her. "Let me help you with that," he told her.

She smiled at him. "Thanks honey," she said warmly. "I don't like shopping by myself but my kids never come around anymore. They're grown now and they have their own kids. No one cares about me anymore."

Something about the way she said that made Kakashi sympathetic. He wondered what was worse: growing old and never having kids, or growing old and never being visited by the kids you raised? He guessed the latter. Despite that, the old lady seemed very cheerful, and she chatted his ears off on the walk back to her home.

"Young man, this village has come a long way since I was young. Your generation has done so much to make this village strong. There's none of that old hatred that used to plague the great nations…! My husband died during the last great Ninja War. My kids were too young to have taken part, but my sons have seen a few good battles in the past five years. They're still alive though, bless them. And times seem peaceful now, thanks to them, and thanks to you."

Kakashi listened politely, nodding now and again. When she broke the string of speech, he interjected. "So, why don't your children visit anymore? Don't they live nearby?"

She chuckled. "Well, as you can see, I'm not exactly easy company. I can barely do anything for myself anymore, and I talk all the time—but that's because I don't really have anyone to talk to, not really. I do just fine, though, don't worry about me," she assured him, pale blue eyes twinkling. "Hey," she said, changing the subject, "you know, you're very handsome. You must have dozens of ladies lined up at your door every evening. Unless you're married? I didn't notice a wedding band."

He smiled weakly, but through the mask he doubted she'd see it. "No, good lady, I've not had a lover since…" Rin. Another memory he couldn't face. "It's been a while," he finished instead. "I'm not… I'm not…" He struggled to search for the right words.

She cut him off. "No need to explain to me. If you want to talk about it, you're welcome to come inside. This is my place."

He stopped walking. They were in front of a narrow apartment between two stores: a tea shop and a bake shop. He blinked. This was the other side of town. Had they been walking that long?

She waved a wrinkled hand in front of his dazed expression. When he turned his eyes back to her, she smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement. "I can make you some tea, if you like."

"Nah, I really shouldn't," he answered. "But thank you for the invitation. I don't want to impose."

She laughed again. "Impose? On what? It's just me in there. Are you sure? I can bake something. I'm pretty sure I have enough ingredients to make some pumpkin muffins…" She waited expectantly for his response.

Who doesn't love pumpkin muffins? His lone wolf nature warred with his boyish affection for fresh baked goods. He'd never really enjoyed much of a childhood. His younger days were punctuated by a tragic set of parents and deadly errors. The small child trapped in the darkest reaches of his tortured soul rose up the surface just then, gasping one precious mouthful of fresh air. This old lady could be the grandmother he had never had. She needed company, and he needed… what did he need? "If it's not too much trouble," he relented.

She chuckled again. "Not at all. Come on in. Please, leave your shoes at the door." She unlocked the door and pushed it open. It creaked horribly. His senses were assaulted with a cloud of dust on the air. He was beginning to doubt his decision to stay before the old lady started humming. The sound pulled him forward, and he found himself in a dimly lit kitchen with old wooden furnishings. The lady had just put a kettle of water on the stove and retrieved a set of—very clean—tea cups and canisters of milk and sugar. She set them on the dusty table and set about baking the muffins. She shuffled quite slowly about the house, but deliberately. It was more clear to Kakashi now that she was still quite capable, just frail and cautious.

He tore his gaze away from her movements, not wanting to be rude, and sat in a chair by the table. He felt awkwardly large in her tiny apartment. The ceilings were low. The old lady was shrunken, of course, but she had still likely been a short woman in her youth. He felt like he was about twice the height he was supposed to be in here. That was funny, considering he felt like half his age in here as well. He found himself wondering what it might have been to have played in this house as a young boy, and sighed involuntarily.

"Well, then, young buck, what's your name?" she asked as she began mixing flour and eggs.

"Kakashi," he told her, not wanting to give his last name. She had surely heard of his father Sakumo and the great Hatake disgrace. "What can I call you?"

"Eda," she replied. "Our family is not so well known as yours, because our sons never really made it past chunin, but it's an old family, Suzume. Probably older than Hatake."

She knew his name. He guessed that saved him the need to hide it. He sighed.

"You're surprised I know who you are? You look just like him, you know. The White Fang." She smiled. "Don't worry. I wasn't on the side that thought your father was wrong. He was a great man."

He felt tension loose in his shoulders that he didn't even know he had. "Yeah, he was. I struggled not to be like him until I was thirteen. I didn't want the village to hate me, too."

"What happened when you were thirteen?" she asked casually as she spooned the batter into a muffin pan.

"Don't you already know?" he asked, hesitant as always to share his story.

"I kept a close eye on Sakumo. He was a very handsome man, like you. But as for you… not so much. You're too young for me," she finished.

"When I was thirteen, I was on a mission with my teammates and sensei. I had just become a jounin. One of my teammates was captured. My other comrade wanted to go after her, but protocol dictated that we should continue the mission because it was time sensitive. We split up in anger. He was killed in battle that day. He gave me his Sharingan as a last gift and told me to protect Rin. I couldn't do that either. I realized then that some things were more important than rules, and I've been very strict about teamwork since then." He felt odd. His problems were just pouring out of his mouth.

The kettle started whistling as she shoved the muffin pan into the oven and closed the door. "You've been plagued by guilt for this long?" She sighed. "If I'd carried a problem on my conscience that long I'd be dead by now."

"I'm not sure I shouldn't be," he answered morosely as she poured them each a cup of tea.

"Ooooh, pah," she dismissed. "If you were supposed to be dead you'd be dead by now. That just means you aren't done living. You're lost, aren't you?"

He blinked, not quite getting her meaning right away. "Yeah," he answered. "I am pretty lost. I don't really know what to do to make my life worth living. I've been working extra to try to fill the void. It's not actually helping, but if I work hard enough, it makes me tired enough to sleep without dreaming. When I dream, I'm haunted, and so I can't sleep." Wow, had he just said all that?

She reached out and patted his hand. "Your friend gave you a gift when he died. He doesn't hold you responsible, so neither should you. What ever happened to the girl? You ought to find a girl. Men and women have an uncanny ability to balance each other out." She smiled. "Yeah, find a good woman to balance out your life, and find something to do that has less to do with work and more to do with… not work."

"Not work?"

"Yeah, you know, like spending time with friends or colleagues, reading, that kind of thing. I'm not saying forget about your past, and certainly do what you can to help prevent those kind of mistakes, but I think you've punished yourself enough for it. You don't?"

He thought about her words. He'd never really shared his feelings with anyone, and so he had never heard the advice he knew he'd hear. He figured everyone would be sympathetic, tell him it's not his fault and to move on, but he wanted it to be his fault. He refused to believe Obito had accidentally died and no one was to blame. It didn't seem right. "No, I don't."

She sighed. "Well, new tactic then… most men say that being married is torture. If you're so set on beating yourself up you ought to find a good woman anyway. She'll either give you the pain you're seeking or take your mind off it. Those are just my thoughts. But I'm old… I've seen a lot of unhappy men your age."

They sipped tea in silence. Kakashi felt…better. He had not really expected that talking about his issues really would make it feel better. The guilt and trouble was still there, buried deep, but it didn't feel quite as overwhelming as it once did. The regret was lifting, but he would still need to find something that would put an end to any further regrets. "This is very good tea," he said, changing the subject.

She winked knowingly. "I'm glad you like it. It's grapefruit pineapple green tea. It's the only tea that I have sent to me. Costs me a fortune, so I don't buy it very often."

He set his cup down. "I'm sorry to have wasted any of it. I won't have any more."

"Nonsense. I made it for you. You don't think much of yourself, do you, Kakashi?" He shook his head, feeling his chest tighten. "Your problem is, you don't have anyone close to you that you can share your life with."

That's because they're all dead, he wanted to say. They're all dead and any new ones could die just as easily, just as accidentally, and just as suddenly. He didn't say it though. "This is very good tea," he repeated instead.

She stopped pressing, sensing a need for him to withdraw. She extracted the muffins from the oven instead and coated them with fresh butter. She handed him one and settled in with one herself.

He finished his tea and stood. "I'll take it to go, thanks. I have somewhere to be."

"Alright," she said, her brows crinkled in concern. "Take care of yourself, Kakashi, and thanks for all your help."

"It was no trouble," he assured her. "Thanks for your hospitality."

It was odd that the old woman had somehow caused him to share all his deepest, darkest, most torturous secrets. It wasn't like him to let people know what was bothering him. Nonetheless, sharing had made him feel... better. The memories still hurt, but... it was almost as if the cuts were fresh again, not scarred upon his very heart. With a little bit of healing salve, they might actually be fixed after all this time. He knew sometimes things got messy before they got cleaner, and he knew exactly what it was he needed to do. This whole charade of a life he had been leading needed to become real. He needed to confront all of his ghosts one by one until he was free of them.

He knew exactly where to start, too. The lovely girl he'd broken into a state of depression deeper than the one in which he was now morassed. Rin.

Obito had told him to take care of her. Since it was Obito's dying wish, he had felt an unyielding need to do so, no matter what it took. He had failed Obito, but to redeem himself he would need to protect Rin. Obito's death had changed them both. Kakashi was forced to reevaluate his entire nindo, from being a stickler about the rules to being even more strict about teamwork, above all else. Rin was... lost, dazed and confused. She was hurt by Kakashi's rejection of her, and didn't even have Obito to run to to complain about Kakashi's cold shoulder. Before too long, their sensei was killed in the fight against the nine-tailed fox. It got to the point where it was just the two of them, either awkwardly staring at each other wondering what was next for both of them or awkwardly avoiding each other wondering what was next for both of them.

Rin's vulnerability became Kakashi's obsession. He had no idea how to deal with it, and it made her seem weaker and weaker. The more he tried to help her conquer her nerves the more she leaned in to him. The more she leaned in to him the more she seemed at ease. Her confidence was at its highest point in his company. He knew what it meant, and it made him want to run far, far away. A relationship with anyone that cared about him was not a good thing for him. He feared for that future and whoever was unlucky enough to be a part of it. Nonetheless, in time it became clear that being with him was the only thing that would ever comfort Rin. Besides, if he were there for her, he could protect her.

They married in secret. Kakashi had not wanted to make a big deal about it, mostly because he didn't want anyone to know. He didn't really want to marry her anyway, and for that he was ashamed. For a time, Rin was very happy. She had gotten exactly what she had always wanted; all her dreams had come true. But, Kakashi's heart was never really in their marriage. He didn't love her that way, never had, never could. While they were younger, it really didn't matter. She could hardly tell. But, as each of them aged and matured and realized the depth-or lack thereof-of their feelings for one another, Rin grew distressed. As a young woman, she knew on a more visceral level that Kakashi did not love her, and she resented him for it. After a while, she resented herself for pushing him towards it, and she began to feel wretched about her life.

Kakashi had her committed after her fifth suicide attempt, because she had almost succeeded that time.

As he approached the little warren of underground rooms where the crazy ninja were kept away from the rest of the world, he thought of what to say. "Hey, darling, it's been a really long time, did you miss me?" didn't seem like a valid greeting. Neither did "If I let you out will you promise not to try to kill yourself again?" As he rested one hand on the doorknob to the administration office, he stopped. Maybe he was wrong to have come here after all. He'd never visited because to do so would mean to stare another failure in the face.

Obito was probably crawling in his grave.

Mentally kicking himself in the ass, he twisted the doorknob and walked in. Besides, if Obito were alive he really would kick Kakashi's ass, and that served to remind him that Obito was not alive, because of him.

The woman at the desk made a small gasp of surprise. "Kakashi," she breathed. "You've come at last?"

He nodded, feeling sick. Why had he waited so long? "Yeah. How is she?"

The woman put a hand to her heaving chest to calm her heartbeat. Kakashi guessed there were not many visitors down here. It was easier to forget the mentally deranged than it was to attempt to speak to them. "She's been doing alright. She's still not at all well but she's off our danger list and has been for a few years. Are... are you here to see her or just inquire?"

He hesitated. He had not expected to be asked; her question threw him a little off guard. He took a deep breath. "To see her."

The woman smiled pleasantly. "Right this way, Kakashi."

He had never been down here, and now that he was seeing it for the first time he was not at all pleased. It was dark down here. Oppressive. He had expected some screaming, but he supposed that had to do with preconceived notions of the mentally ill. Maybe most were just depressed, like Rin. He knew that if he were ever stuck down here, it would make him want to kill himself, not heal him from it. If Rin was doing any better he'd be really impressed.

The woman, who gave her name as Irime, left him in front of an unlocked door and told him to call her name if he needed anything. She left him with just a simple wooden frame separating him from his estranged wife. He turned the doorknob... and pushed it open.

The door creaked, for which he was not really surprised, given the state of the place. The room was dimly lit with yellow light, and at the desk was a woman staring at him from over her shoulder. She had paused from writing something. She blinked, and then her eyes widened. "Kakashi? What's going on?"

Rin. Unexpectedly, he felt his heart stir. It was something in her tone... too many levels of emotion. Worry, challenge, nervousness, and love all in one neat little package. He nodded. "Rin. I'm sorry I never came to see you." His mind was buzzing, so he let his heart speak for him.

She shrugged and turned back to her writing. After a moment, she said, "You look like crap. You have not been sleeping. That's what happens when you lock your wife up. Who's supposed to take care of you?"

He cringed, stung by her words. He refrained from reminding her exactly why she was locked up, but then again... that was his fault, too. "No one's taking care of you, either. Maybe we need each other."

He saw her stop writing, heard the scrape of her chair as she adjusted it. "No," she said, her tone holding a trace of warning. "That's a trap. Why are you here, Kakashi?"

He sighed and leaned against the open door frame. "I'm... worried about you. I think about you more than I can really say. I don't like that you're in here. It doesn't seem right."

She hunched her shoulders, blocking him out.

"Rin, isn't it time for you to come home?" he asked her.

"You put me here," she reminded him glumly.

"Because you almost bared your veins to the world and I couldn't be home 24/7 to keep all the sharp things locked up," he sniped.

She laughed humorlessly. "You don't want me to come home," she said harshly. "You just don't want to be an ass anymore. It has nothing to do with me. I'm still nothing to you except for a regret."

At one time that had been true, but not now. She needed to know that even if he hadn't loved her, he had cared. "No, Rin. You do mean something to me. Maybe we should never have been lovers, but I do have feelings for you. Besides, whatever you may think or whatever I may feel for you, you need to know that you're a beautiful, talented woman who would make any man a lucky man. You don't belong down here in this pickled dungeon. You should be up there, helping the injured and... and... dancing." He faltered, thinking of that. Rin had loved dancing, and she had always looked her happiest while she did so. He noticed she was looking at him now. "I don't want you to live down here. I want you to come home. We don't need to pretend we are something we are not. You can be Rin, and I can be Kakashi, and if someday we are Rin and Kakashi, then great, but if we don't want to do that, then let me at least be your friend. We used to be friends once, remember?"

"I don't need a friend," she said, shaking her head.

He realized then, exactly why he was here. She didn't need him anymore. But... "I do."

Her gaze locked on his and intensified. She seemed to be searching his eyes for something. A clue, or a trick, something that would lend her the truth to his words. "Please," he begged her. She stopped breathing for a moment, then sighed heavily and nodded. She stood shakily, and he felt wretched. It was his fault she was here. If he had it his way, over the next few years he would make absolutely certain that she never had a reason to come back here. He hadn't been ready back then for any sort of emotional commitment, but more and more he was realizing that he wanted one-no, needed one-now. "Rin," he breathed.

She narrowed her eyes at him, looking as if she wanted to run. "Don't," she whispered. "Just don't. You don't know what it was like, what it has been like, and I don't want your godforsaken sympathy now after all this time." She made her way toward him, pocketing the small book she had been writing in. She kept her distance from him as she eased her way around his body and through the doorway. It was probably the first time she had crossed that threshold since she had been placed in that room. "Let's go," she said, her voice hollow.

He felt shredded inside. When he had left her, she had been a broken woman, a mere shell of her former self. She had not been able to look anyone in the eyes, had seemed to disappear in a room full of people, and couldn't bear his very touch. She had been destroyed, and it was his fault. She had been so incapable of surviving the sight of him or the pity of anyone else that she had been set on ending it all with the cold touch of cruel steel. And now... now she was the cruel steel. It wasn't even the way she spoke to him that told him that. Her back was straighter, her eyes colder, brighter. In this dungeon of solitude she had undergone a catharsis of sorts, and she had done it alone. Through whatever magic it had taken, Rin had changed. She was no longer the sweet, innocent, and passionate little girl he had married.

No, this Rin was strong.

He felt as if his life force had been drained to ameliorate her. If that were the case, it was well-deserved. If some unseen force had drained his strength and given it to her to undo his mistake, he was all for it. It had been his fault she was here and he had been punishing himself for it since he'd left her. Maybe he could finally rest in peace.

"Kakashi," she clipped, breaking his morose train of thought. He blinked at her. "You look like hell. You coming or not?"

He nodded and followed her out of the dungeon.

Rin coursed through his apartment like a tropical storm released from a glass bottle. The first thing she did was throw almost everything he owned away. He stared, unable to speak on the matter, at the growing pile of 'trash.' His Make-out Paradise books, disheveled, their pages bent in a way that made his fingers itch to rescue them; his 'around-the-house' clothes, those old rags he just couldn't throw away and pretended he'd wear some day when he was just sitting at home relaxing (which he never did); most of the food in the refrigerator. He stared as she stalked around the house, clearing out nearly everything she laid eyes on.

When it was finished, he had the bare minimum needed to survive: clothes, his ninja tools, and a coffee pot. He opened his mouth to ask her why she had thrown all of his stuff away, but no sooner had his lips parted than she shot him a menacing glare and answered, "You're living like a dirty, bottom-feeding animal, Kakashi. Starting now, you're going to eat better, you're not going to read that trash, and you are going to look sharp. Don't argue with me."

He didn't know whether to be indignant or meek. He was caught in between hey-that's-my-stuff-and-this-is-my-apartment and I'm-sorry-I-ruined-your-life-so-carry-on. He wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

When she was satisfied the cleaning was done, she exited the apartment, forcing Kakashi to follow her. He tagged along as she bought fresh groceries, including all the healthy things he never liked to eat. It wasn't that he didn't care what happened to his body, he just didn't really like the taste of things that were healthy. When she had chosen all of the groceries she wanted to buy, she stood at the checkout line and waited expectantly. He almost asked what she was waiting for until he remembered she didn't have anything to her name right now. That realization shed light on what her expression meant: "I don't have any money because you locked me away with nothing, you bastard." He suppressed a sigh and wordlessly paid for the groceries. When that was finished she stalked out of the store, and they were on the move again.

She clunked the grocery bag down on the plain wooden table in his kitchen and began gliding from counter to counter, pulling out an assortment of pots and pans and muttering to herself about all the inadequacies of men. How had she learned about the so-called inadequacies of men if she had never been with any save him and had no contact with anyone since her confinement? He scratched his head in utter bafflement. Women could be so confusing sometimes.

When the angry muttering intensified and she grabbed a knife to start cutting vegetables, he quickly rose from his chair. It wouldn't do to have her cutting herself again. "Rin," he said gently, stopping her. She fried him on the spot with a fierce glare, but he continued anyway. "Rin, let me make you dinner. You've done enough for me today." If 'enough' meant ridding his life of his possessions, anyway. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes, but slowly retreated from the kitchen. He heard her soft harrumph as he set about cooking a meal.

He'd always been sort of a moderate cook. He'd never really had the time to practice anything fancy, but he grasped early on the general concepts of a tasty meal: don't over- or under-spice the food. Don't over- or under-cook the food. Make sure things taste good when they are put together. Make sure all the food is done at the same time so everything is hot when it is served. Make sure the fire is only as high as it needs to be. Never leave the cooking unattended. Once he had all those general concepts down, it was just putting together things that would taste good. Based on what Rin had left out on the counter, it was vegetable stir fry with ginger. Easy enough.

Behind him, Rin was tapping her foot. "So. What gives?"

"Hm?" he asked, absorbed in the recipe at hand.

"What made you finally feel sorry for me enough to talk me out of that place? Actually, let me try again. Why do you suddenly care?" Her tone held all the accusations of a he glanced back at her, her arms were crossed solidly across her chest.

He sighed. Their new start was not off to a very smooth start. Besides that, speaking to her about his feelings was not going to be even a fraction as easy as it had been to talk to Eda. Thinking of her gave him a little bit of confidence though. She had not judged him in the slightest. She had no regrets. "I miss you," he told her honestly. "To tell the truth, I've never stopped thinking of you since I put you in that place. I didn't want to do that, but I was not enough to keep you from hurting yourself. As long as you had the power to do it, I don't think you were coming back from that point without some help. My existence was killing you slowly."

She nodded. She had not denied it, and it made him feel bad.

"I couldn't save you and I didn't want you to die. It was all I could think of at the time. I still feel terrible about it, but I didn't know what to do. Because I felt so shitty about it, I tried to forget about it. I tried to tell myself you were going to get better and that seeing me was the last thing you needed. I tried dating hoping to move on, and I only ever saw your face in their eyes." He noted with interest that her eyes hardened. She didn't like the thought of him with anyone else. "I gave up on that. I could never accept that what I did was either right or wrong. I could never decide if marrying you had been right or wrong. I've only ever done everything to try to make you happy." He felt some of the anger finally leaking through, and he stopped masking it. "I protected you for Obito and it killed me to see you upset. I tried to be close to you because I knew it was what you wanted, and it still made you upset. I married you because I had hoped it would put a smile on your face, and it did! For a little while, anyway. Then I watched, unable to do a damned thing, as that pretty little smile that I had caused, me!" He threw the vegetables into the pan, a little more forcefully than he intended, and heard the satisfying hiss as they struck the hot metal. "I watched that smile disappear, and the next time it appeared it scared the hell out of me. You know when that was?"

She shook her head, her eyes softening a little. He was getting to her, he could tell, but he blazed onward.

"When you held the first knife above your wrists and dug into your own flesh." He let that hang between them and shook the pan. He took a few deep breaths to come off his tirade, then continued talking. "Yes, Rin, it was selfish of me to get you out of my life, but it was a bad decision in the first place to marry someone I didn't love, especially you. You deserved better, and I was wrong to play pretend with your feelings. But hear me and hear me well. I only ever did anything I did because I thought it was helping you. I do care about you, and I always have. I-" he put emphasis on it so he could assuage any of her own misgivings "I was not ready to be anyone's husband. I was barely a man back then."

"Kakashi, you were a man at six," Rin said sadly.

"No, I was a ninja at six. A warrior, a killing machine, but a boy all the same. A person can understand what it means to take a life, what it means to risk death and to cause the death of others, but that doesn't mean a person can understand all the tiny little mechanisms and chemical reactions that happen in the body, the brain, and the heart. Fuck, Rin," he laughed, "I had barely earned my hormones when I married you. I didn't even know what I was doing when we went to bed." He gave the stir fry a sniff, then tossed in soy sauce and ginger. "What I am trying to tell you is... I'm sorry for all the pain I have caused you." He paused. "But I'm not a little boy anymore. I still care about you and I think it may be in a different way now. I don't want to rush into anything, but if it's alright with you I'd like to slowly, very slowly, explore these newer feelings. Take as much time to think about it as you need. Know that whatever you decide, no one is putting you back in that place unless you decide to go on your own."

She nodded cautiously, internalizing his words. She didn't answer his request though, and he knew she wouldn't for a while. So, he didn't press the issue, and instead served them each a plate of food and grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. He was grateful she had not thrown them away, at least. They ate in silence, each lost to their own thoughts.

Kakashi's mind was bent on Eda. Whatever happened with Rin, he wanted to see her again. She shouldn't be living alone. Whether Rin decided it was okay or not, he had already made his own decision to keep an eye on her and help her whenever he could. Not another day would pass when he would not be doing something worthwhile.

When they had both finished eating, Rin sighed with contentment. "That was pretty good," she said. "And I'd like that."

He blinked. Had she just said what he thought she said? "You want to start over?" he asked, surprised.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think so. Slowly, though, like you said."

He swallowed. "Alright," he breathed, smiling and nodding. "Alright," he repeated. "Good."

He didn't even realize he had arrived at Hokage tower until he found himself face-to-face with Tsunade's closed door. He blinked, surprised, then knocked on the door. She bade him enter, so he pushed it open and came to stand just in front of her desk. She started when she saw him, her eyes widening slightly. "Kakashi," she said. "You look much better. I'm glad you took my advice on the sleep thing." She smiled at him, clearly relieved.

"Actually," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, "I didn't sleep a wink!"

She let her hands fall to her desk. Kakashi could not help but wonder at how catlike she looked when she was surprised. "Huh? Well, then how else do you explain your good mood and your usual lateness?"

"Sorry," he said, smiling. "I'm afraid I got lost on the path of life."


End file.
